


Drink, And Be Merry.

by inheritanceofgeek



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Birthday, Dick Jokes, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 03:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18864466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inheritanceofgeek/pseuds/inheritanceofgeek
Summary: Due to a series of events, the team end up spending Dick's 18th Birthday in London! Beryl insists they celebrate accordingly, because what's law in the states isnotlaw in Europe!Wally's never had a chance to get drunk before, and he's not about to let the opportunity to to waste! That is if he can get the damned stuff towork?!





	Drink, And Be Merry.

**Author's Note:**

> Back in the day, the Hobbit Fandom was active, and those wolly toed halflings would always give gifts to OTHER people on their birthdays. And I've been keeping it up ever since then! 
> 
> If only here were songs for being 25, I might have a smarter quote to give here! 
> 
> One last thing -- I'm British! So I don't have access to DC Universe! So no series 3 spoilers please and thank you <3

**2014/12/01 19:08 GMT, London, England**

**Team Year Four**

 

Wally leaned back on the wall of the tunnel as he tried to catch his breath, letting the loud rumbling of the trains wash over him. His body vibrated in time to each jolt, in a meditative fashion. The team were exhausted, bloodied and bruised; but once again they'd all managed to make it out alive. They might not be so lucky next time, but that would be a problem for future Wally. Right now all he really wanted was eight Pizzas with double all the toppings. Or, maybe he'd try something more local and go for a kebab and fries ( _not_ chips why would you want chips with a Kebab?).

“You know, somehow I didn't imagine spending my birthday this way.” sighed Dick, slouching down next to him.

“What, you mean chasing down evil punk rock sirens through the streets of London?” said Wally, knocking their shoulders together. 

Dick returned the gesture, casually leaning against him. Wally was still getting used to Dick being taller than him. Out of all the team members, Dick was the most affected by puberty. There had been a few missions where he’d been mid growth spurt and was still getting used to his new height. It had been absolutely hilarious watching the Boy Wonder constantly bang his head on car roofs and door frames. Dick limply threw his arm in the air in a exhausted exasperation “I just don't get it, it's a monday! Mondays are usually spent doing homework and stopping muggings. Mondays are for petty crime, not supervillains. Totally not feeling the aster right now. Who does Super Villain stuff on a Monday?!”  

“Crazy reincarnated Celtic deities, apparently.” Artemis supplied, sitting across from them. She was still wearing her groupie-disguise, with dip-dyed blue hair and swirling pink and blue asymmetrical makeup. M'Gann had dropped her own, similar disguise, reverting back to her preferred green skin and short red hair; but Artemis still looked ready for a rock out at any moment. It was  _totally_ hot.

“Hey! It's your birthday, happy birthday.” heaved their host, Beryl Hutchinson AKA  _‘Squire’_ , sidekick to  _‘Knight’_. They were essentially the British equivalent of Batman and Robin, but with worse fashion sense. Which was truly impressive, when you thought about it.

The team had been called in to lend a hand when the mysterious fainting sickness had taken over the entire teenage population of London, with worries that it might spread world wide. Strange pop stars had started to appear out of nowhere, going from gigging in the back of dodgy pubs to selling out stadiums in a matter of weeks. The mania that surrounded them was worrisome, especially once the bodies started showing up; kids in comas found dumped in the backstreets of venues. Nobody had died, but it had been a close call. There were plenty of kids still under, but now the power crystals had been destroyed the so-called-gods had lost their thrall. It had been a pretty intense mission, but who could really complain about a free trip to London with your best mates? Not Wally, that was for sure.

“So how old are you then, 'Wing?” asked Squire, indicating that the team should start moving through the tunnels again. Their secret hideout was built around the various abandoned tube stations, giving them easy access to the whole city without ever being found out. It was  _much_  cooler than the Batcave, if only because it had indoor plumbing. Not that Wally had been  _invited_  into the Batcave yet! He wasn't even entirely sure where the Batcave even  _was_ , other than somewhere within Wayne Manor. Apparently  _some_ secrets were for the Bats only. But at least they all knew Nightwing's real name now, it had been getting  _real_  hard to resist making Dick jokes, especially as they got older. Dick had gone from gawky awkward thirteen year-old mathlete to absolute socialite heartthrob hound dog; so talking about everyone looking to get some Dick was  _irresistibly_  funny!

“Eighteen,” Dick grinned, accepting her offered and hand and clambering to his feet. “Finally old enough to vote for the government I'm always trying to save from certain death.”

“And drink when you need to recover afterwards.” laughed Beryl “Yeah, know that feeling.”

There was an awkward silence as she looked around them, clearly puzzled as to why no one was laughing. Kaldur coughed slightly, the sound almost echoing in the tunnel.

“Actually, it is illegal to drink alcohol within the United States until the age of twenty-one. Nightwing will have to wait another three years before he can do so.”

Artemis rolled her eyes “Yeah, Kaldur's the only one who  _can_ drink, and even then he doesn't.”

“I mean, I can!” piped up M'Gann “But nobody will actually believe I'm fifty-two, so we have to just tell everyone I'm nineteen.”

Wally couldn't decide what Beryl was more shocked by, the fact that none of them were allowed to drink alcohol, or that M'Gann was old enough to be her mother.

“I mean, that's nothing really! It's not weird at all when you think about it!” continued M'gann, ever determined to dig herself deeper into any hole she'd found herself in. “Superboy’s only four years old, but he'll look sixteen forever!”

“ _M'Gann_.” growled Conner, sending her another icy glare (something had happened between them recently, though neither seemed willing to talk about it). His tone was rather menacing, but it was hard to take him seriously with a giant purple star painted across one eye and a shirt that seemed to have decided on its own accord that it would be a god damn shame to let those Kryptonian muscles go unappreciated by the general public. Wally totally did not have a complex about it though. Weird, vaguely inappropriate feelings for a guy who was already in a committed relationship, sure, but no complex. How many other people could say that they’d been granted the power of magnificent abbs from lighting? Okay, one person, but that’s still better than just having gotten then from alien-cloning.

“You Americans sure are full of surprises…” Beryl said at last, “but I mean, you have all had a drink b before though, right? I've seen the movies with those red cups, and the pool parties where someone's parents have gone out of town for the weekend. That's an actual thing, right?”

Kaldur responded with his usual dignity and proprietary, even if he was still covered in body glitter “We are associate members of the Justice League. We’re trusted to uphold the laws of the nation. We do not break those laws, Squire. We cannot make exceptions for ourselves, just because we have super powers,  _or_ because we're lucky enough to have the backing of a millionaire.” he shot a glance at Dick, who'd just opened his mouth to complain before quickly closing it again.

“And anyway,” added Wally, heaving a giant sigh “We're on call twen-ty-four-se-ven, when do we have the  _time_ for wild parties when our parents aren't home? Not even  _Nightwing_ has that luxury, and he lives in a mansion.” He kind of wished he could just race straight ahead so he could just get some sleep, but he was still running on empty. Could they get delivery to down here? Was there some sort of special superhero take out place that specialised in underground lairs?

Beryl looked between them all with an unimpressed expression “This is all so desperately, desperately tragic. As such,” a giant smile spread across her face, her eyes twinkling with mischief “it is my absolute, honour bound duty as your host in our fine city, to  _fix_ this travesty.”

The team all turned to look at Kaldur, they needed to celebrate their victory anyway, and whilst Dick was due to have a proper party when they got back, there was surely no harm in having  _two_.

“Of course there's no pressure to drink if you don't want to! Knight's been sober for 7 years now, after all. Gave him his chip last week. We all cried.” added Beryl a little frantically. “Me and Knight have a good local. Plenty of soft drinks if you need 'em, good grub, nice atmosphere. Plus it's quiet and the owner is an ex-hero herself. Double Decker. Gave it up when she lost hearing in her other ear too.”

A small smile spread across Kaldur's face “Well, I suppose it is only right to partake in the local cultural customs. But if anything happens,  _you_ must be the one to explain it to batman.”

“Deal!” grinned Dick, looking about at the rest of the team, who seemed just as euphoric. Oh tonight was going to be one to remember! 

They'd quickly made it back to their base to change into their civvies… then changed once again because Beryl refused to go with anyone wearing a Tourist T-Shirt, and to let Knight know where they were off to. He even gave them use of his card, telling them to have a good time and gave them cash should they need a cab. It was a very weird experience having the Teetotal Batman of Jolly Old England being so supportive of an 18 year-old planning on getting trashed, but Europe really was an alien planet sometimes. Wally had eaten the entire contents of their fridge and then they got on a train and rattled off towards their destination!

The pub was the sort Wally thought only existed in films. It was small, with little booths lining the walls and sticky wooden tables thrown all over the place. There were named tankards stacked behind the bar for the regulars, and a random collection of photographs on display throughout, most seemed to depict different superheroes either sitting inside and having a drink, or else just grinning with a woman who he assumed to be 'Double Decker’. He could see where the name came from now. She was a  _huge_ , with arms like tree trunks and thighs like barrels. And, yep, that was definitely a picture of her bench pressing a bus.

Conner caught his impressed look and crossed his arms “That's not as cool as you think, you know. That's just a standard display of super strength. I could do that, no problem.”

“Well yeah, but Alice hasn't got any super powers. She's just determined, and awesome.” Beryl’s wistful sigh not going unnoticed by even Wally. She pointed out a booth for them, and dragged Dick and Kaldur off to the bar to order drinks.

“I can't believe we have fake IDs for buying alcohol, but they still have our actual real information on them.” Artemis was looking down at hers in disbelief. They'd naturally left all their real ID back in the states, all other forms of identification was for their covers. But Knight had insisted that they all have as-close-to-legal I.D as they could get within 20 minutes.

M'Gann gave a huff of incredulous laughter “You think it's weird for you, I don't think I'll  _ever_ get used to everyone calling me a teenager. I'm not a  _baby_ , I can feed myself now thank you very much!”

Conner was still silent, and it had none of the casual comfortable nature of before. Wally knew that they should probably talk about what happened between them soon… They still needed to work together as a team, and they couldn't allow relationship drama to get in the way. Artemis and him understood that all too well. Sure, arguing what their version of flirting, but they never let it affect the team. When things got hard they always took a step back, making sure they were either working in different squads, or taking the mission off completely.  _Batman_ had congratulated them on their maturity! It had certain been a very surreal experience.

The guys quickly came back over with a tray of drinks each, and set them down on the table. There was a beer for each of them, and then also a couple of trays of shots. Beryl called them Jäger Bombs, a dangerous concoction of alcohol and energy drinks that were apparently standard for any British Coming of Age party. They raised their glasses in the air to salute the Birthday Boy.

“To everyone's favourite Dick, who always goes hard! May he come more often.” Grinned Wally, and everyone chanted the last bit back before downing the shot. M'gann spluttered around it, Dick looked faintly surprised and Artemis immediately reached for another. Beryl was more sensible and went for her beer instead. Kaldur had taken a shot to be polite, but was refraining from the rest of the evening, just in case they were needed on a case, or couldn't find a cab to take them home and he needed to commandeer a car.

Wally himself hadn't been too fond of the taste of the Jäger Bomb, but the night was young and there was a whole host of drinks on the menu! And Knight had instructed them to have as good a time as possible. “Hey, Babe, challenge you to a drinking contest!” he grinned, meeting eyes with her. She narrowed her own and reached for another shot

“Oh you are  _so_ on.”

So then there were more shots. And cocktails. And beers. And wine. And Ale. And Whiskey and…

And  _none_ of it seemed to be working! Dick was off in the corner singing along with Beryl to various 90s pop songs and dedicating them to bemused patrons. He was pretty sure ‘Beautiful Soul’ had been played four times already, but it was better than ‘What's New Pussycat’. M'Gann didn't seem drunk exactly, but she'd certainly consumed enough sugar to be jumping from the walls and was talking very loudly about martian customs. Apparently their coming of age parties involved transforming into different people and trying to convince those around you that it  _wasn't_ your birthday? It was apparently hilarious and involved a lot of celebratory rock throwing. Kaldur had tried to stop her from talking about it all, before realising that everybody in the pub just thought she was bat shit crazy. And, to be fair they weren't  _entirely_ wrong.

Artemis had been going toe to toe with him all the way on every drink, and looking the worse for wear because of it. She hadn't thrown up yet but had turned very quiet as she gently swayed in her seat. Her head was currently resting on his shoulder, her eyes half closed as she murmured about how she could totally beat him up if given the chance. She apparently had a plan on what to do if they ever needed to fight one another if he turned evil. He believed her, of course, but it wasn't as if Wally didn't know all  _her_ weaknesses too. So, watch out hylatherical evil Artemis clone; your hypothetical ass was going  _down_!

The only other person who seemed unaffected by the alcohol was Conner. He seemed stuck in his usual foul mood from the past month, but wasn't that always the way? Not every couple could be as perfect as him and Artemis! (Death threats aside of course.) Conner locked eyes with him and finally smiled “You know the reason it's not affecting us the way as them, right?

“Errr, because you and M'Gann are aliens who have weird biology that isn't as responsive to the same toxins as humans?” Wally rattled off, trying to down the rest of Artemis’ abandoned drink to see if he could get a buzz off of it. Maybe her drinks had just been stronger than his?

Kaldur grinned too, taking a sip of his Sprite. (Which everyone here insisted  _wasn't_ Sprite, and kept calling it lemonade despite the fact it was still fizzy and completely clear.) “I think Conner was referring to  _you_ , Wally, and  _not_ M'Gann.”

“Oh! Oh! I know!” cried M'Gann leaning forward in her chair, okay not leaning, hovering but there was nobody around to see. “It's the same way he can eat twenty Pizzas without throwing up!”

Wally made a dismissive noise “What are you guys talking about? I can eat twenty Pizzas because I burn so many calories running that I have to replace them with huge quantities of food! That's just how speedsters work, same goes for Uncle Barry! Why would -- oh god.” His eyes winded, his palms grew sweaty, Artemis kissed his cheek and threatened to break his arm if he ever turned evil “My metabolism, I have a higher metabolism rate! I can't… I  _can't get drunk_! Like, ever. I'll  _never ever_ be able to get! drunk!” 

“No, you won't.” Conner smirked “I won't either, but I think it's going to bother  _you_ a lot more than it is me.”

“But, but being drunk is meant to be fun! You're meant to get all excited and do crazy stupid shit that you wouldn't usually do and have stories about how your night was twenty times better just because of how much you drank!”

Artemis wrapped her arms tighter around him, snuggling into his shoulder “Mmmm, look at my stupid, dumb boyfriend. He gave himself powers and took away his right to a normal life. Mmmmm, stupid sexy Meta. It's not all bad though, Meta powers came in very useful when we--”

“No, no! I refuse to believe this!” cried Wally, still not over the revelation. He'd probably  _never_ be over this! Artemis was right, about the bedroom stuff sure, but  _also_ about his stupid ass decision to get struck by lightning whilst covered in chemicals! He'd been only 14 years old when he'd recreated his Uncle's accident. He'd just wanted to be a hero just like Barry and Jay! He wanted to have amazing super speed that would let him to incredible things, and he was a kid genius so obviously he'd managed it but-- but … why hadn't Barry  _warned_ him! He was supposed to be his uncle! He was supposed to…

Wally dug into his pocket and bought out his phone, frantically dialing home and not caring what time it was there or what they might be doing. The twelve seconds it took for Barry to answer felt like a century.

“Hey Wally, what's up? Is everything alright with the mission, Batman said --”

“I CAN'T GET DRUNK!” he screamed down the phone “EVER?! I CAN NEVER GET DRUNK! I JUST HAVE TO SIT THERE AND BE THE DESIGNATED DRIVER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE! No offense Kaldur,” he pushed the phone away from his mouth a little bit “I support your choices but at least they're  _choices_ and not the result of a biology that SOMEBODY SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME ABOUT!” he turned back to the phone. He could hear Aunt Iris’ stunted giggles in the background, and there was more than a hint of amusement in Barry's tone too.

“Let me guess, you're celebrating Nightwing's birthday in European Fashion?”

“YES! The idiot is having a lot of fun thanks to just two rum and cokes, meanwhile I'm sitting here with a drunk girlfriend threatening to beat me up whilst simultaneously telling me she loves me! And I'm  _stone cold sober_!”

Barry was acting like this was all just a general conversation, and not a beating down by his only nephew. “Yeah, that's a consequence to it all. I remember when I first found that out. Went for drinks with my detective buddies and whilst everyone else was buzzing I might as well have been drinking cola. Wasted a lot of money that night on trying to figure out if there was a limit.”

“And you were just, gonna let me find this out for myself! Without  _telling_ me?!”

He could hear Barry's tone get more and more strained with laughter and he hated to think what else was going on in the background “Hey kid, some of these things you just have to find out for yourself. I'm guessing you and Artemis have worked out some of the benefits to vibra--”

“Oh my god Uncle Barry do you have to make every situation ten times worse!” He groaned, throwing his head back against the booth, jostling Artemis slightly in the process and earning himself a dull slap to the thigh.

Barry chuckled, taking a deep breath to calm his voice, but Wally could still hear that shit-eating grin. “Okay Kid, okay. I'll shut up, I'll be good now. Promise. But you know Wally, this is just the price of being a hero. It's the law of equivalent exchange, you get the amazing powers, you get to experience things nobody could ever imagine in their wildest dreams -- and you can't get drunk. Small price to pay, right?”  

Wally pursed his lips. Sure, Barry was right. In the grand scheme of things, not being able to get drunk was small fries. It wasn't like he had any medical condition that affected it, he was a perfectly healthy twenty year-old, with a loving girlfriend who finally made him understand the whole 'lightning rod’ metaphor and eight friends he'd sacrifice his life and would do the same in return. He got to travel around the world, around the  _galaxy_ and you know, travel faster than the speed of sound. He  _really_ shouldn't complain…

“But if you're didn't tell me about  _this_ , what  _else_ aren't you telling me about!” he whined, trying his hardest not to gesticulate too wildly from fear of jostling Artemis, who was now dangerously reaching out towards Conner's abandoned beer. Conner wasn't going to let her drink it, but Wally's wasn't so sure he'd not stop her from spilling it all over him.

Barry paused for a worrying amount of time “There's _probably something_ I'm forgetting about, but its probably all for the best. You're  _Kid_ Flash Wally, don't worry about growing up too quickly. I have to get to work, but we can talk more about this tomorrow when you get home, alright?”

Wally threw his head back “ _Fine_. See you tomorrow Uncle Barry.” he hung up the phone and glared down at it. Suddenly there was a crashing sound that drew their whole attention. Dick had tried to show off his circus skills by flipping up onto a nearby table. Whilst he'd successfully landed on it without spilling a drop of his WKD, the table was  _clearly_ not designed to hold 176 pounds of pure Bat Muscle... and had promptly collapsed underneath him.

Beryl and M'Gann were too busy dying from laughter to do anything to help, and Conner looked like he was preparing for a bar fight. Kaldur had that devious expression on his face that was reserved for when his most beloved friends embarrassed themselves to high heaven. Wally would have found it funny too, had Artemis not taken that exact moment to make an absolutely disgusting hacking noise and proceed to chuck up all over his shirt.

And you know what? If Wally never had another outing to the pub, it would be too soon. As willing as he was to hold Artemis’ hair back as she prayed to the porcelain throne, he would rather _die_ than have to go through any of this ever again. He could see why people said alcohol wasn't all it was cracked up to be, because those not involved were doomed to clean everything up afterwards

Looks like he was gonna have to come up with a whole new set of plans for his twenty-first birthday.

**Author's Note:**

> Repeating my request for no Series 3 Spoilers! 
> 
> And an addition that if you enjoyed this fic, then you can let me know via Kudos/Comments or on Tumblr where I'm Mrsmarymorstan =)


End file.
